Devil
by Minrubi Axelsson
Summary: Every supernatural creature had heard of the frightening rumors about him, of his cruelty and complete lack of remorse. Of the fact that he exclusively drank from vampires, despite the taboo surrounding the act. Some even thought his existence was a myth, so great was his power that it seemed unrealistic. Human Caroline and Hybrid Klaus. *Dark Klaroline, OOC, and AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries.**

**Warning****: This is intended for a mature and broad-minded audience due to my writing style, which tends to have a dark undertone.  
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**A/N: Hello, everyone! Okay, lately, I've been having, like, non-stop, compulsive thoughts about writing a Klaroline story, so I finally decided to write a story to save myself from my own self-inflicted insanity, and here is the first chapter of it. I really hope you enjoy it!  
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><p>Chapter One<p>

The young girl ran, screaming for help. Blood was trickling down her body, leaving a trail which was being followed. The howling kept getting closer, closer, and closer. Her legs began tingling with fatigue, her fear-induced adrenaline was quickly dissipating. Exhausted lungs burned in protest as she sped through the woods, now at a lower, pained pace, her feet barely skimming the surface as she attempted to flee. The heavy fog combined with the hot tears sprouting from her eyes reduced her visual acuity, but she was determined to escape from the monster that was hunting her. Blinking to refocus her vision, she could now make out the shape of the full moon, and a blur of bright, yet distant lights. Her heart threatened to beat out of her chest as she finally realized she was getting close to a busy road. All she had to do was get to the road to get some help. She screamed again with renewed effort, wildly waving her arms above her head, praying someone would notice her.

Out of nowhere, something hit her right leg and knocked it out from under her. She went down hard, crashing into the ground, her arms poised in front of her to take the brunt of the impact, but the momentum was too much. She whimpered as she felt pain shooting up her leg. She tried getting up, but it was no use, her broken limb could not support her weight as it bent at an awkward angle. Collapsing to the ground, she began dragging her body on her elbows, ignoring the pain vibrating through her.

Behind her, she heard the growl of the enraged beast, a piercing sound alerting her of its nearness.

The girl continued to drag herself, despite the futility of it all.

Caroline, a silent spectator to the horrific scene unfolding before her, wanted to close her eyes, knowing that if she kept watching a scream would inevitably escape her mouth from the suspense of it all, but she was mesmerized. She tugged on her lower lip with her small, blunt teeth. She wanted the girl to live, to survive.

_Get up._ She whispered in her head, anxious that the girl was going to get killed by the monstrosity that was hunting her down.

Caroline bit her lip even harder as the werewolf finally pounced on the wounded girl, tearing into her neck with its razor sharp canines. She watched in dismay as the girl gurgled in her own blood, her arm outstretched, still trying to reach the road.

To her horror, the werewolf then began breaking off the dead girl's limbs and began gnawing on them.

Caroline's shoulders slumped, then her emerald eyes narrowed. _Wow. They would kill off my favorite character, the only character that was actually interesting and-_

Before Caroline could continue with her inner diatribe, a hand fell upon one of her shoulders from out of the darkness of the living room.

Caroline's eyes widened, and the scream that she was trying so desperately to suppress earlier finally ripped out of her throat. She jumped out of the couch, spilling tea everywhere. Scrambling, she grabbed the nearest weapon, which pathetically turned out to be the remote.

She tensed her body, prepared to lash out to the intruder or monster lurking in the dark.

The light that suddenly engulfed the living room, quickly revealed the owner of the hand that had touched her shoulder.

It wasn't an intruder and certainly not a monster.

A sigh of relief escaped the blonde's lips, then heat rushed to her face as she realized she was holding the remote in front of her grandmother as it were some kind of deadly weapon. She felt and most likely looked ridiculous, judging from the way her grandmother was gawking at her.

"Are you alright?" questioned the familiar, gentle voice.

"You nearly gave me a heart attack", murmured Caroline, pressing a hand to her frantic heartbeat for emphasis, but nodding in reassurance.

She had been watching way too many scary movies today, all because of a silly bet she had made at work with one of her coworkers. He had, confidently, assumed that she lacked the courage to watch a Halloween marathon of horror flicks and had even called her a 'scaredy cat,' but she'd show him. When she saw him during work tomorrow, she was going to rub it in his stupid, yet very handsome face. She would just conveniently leave out the part about him being right in labeling her a scaredy cat.

Caroline rubbed her arms, trying to get rid of the goose bumps still lingering on her skin, cautiously walking toward her grandmother, trying not to alarm her.

Her grandmother smiled apologetically, then slightly frowned as she glanced at the television and took notice of what Caroline was watching.

"That's going to give you nightmares, Care," scolded her grandmother, disapproval evident in her brown eyes.

Caroline froze in place, then flashed a smile, her chest swelling with joy. Her grandmother recognized her!

"Gran, I'm an adult, almost 23 years old. Scary movies won't give me nightmares," she argued, hoping that her grandmother remembered her real age this time, instead of mistaking her for being a child like the last time.

Her grandmother gave her a disbelieving look, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

"Really? Those would've fooled me," teased the elder woman, referencing her granddaughter's pajamas.

Caroline took a peek down at her attire and laughed wholeheartedly. She had forgotten she was wearing her now tea-stained children's pajamas, too blinded by the happiness that her grandmother's moment of lucidity brought her.

"They're comfy," defended Caroline in a haughty voice, but she was still smiling.

It was true, she loved wearing children's pajamas, sometimes she even wore footwear designed for children, too. Most days she disliked being petite, but then she would remember that it was her small-frame that allowed her to wear the world's comfiest clothing.

"Well, I didn't mean to frighten you, sweetie, but your phone has been going off and I don't know how to make it stop," confessed her grandmother, leaning heavily on her cane as she gave Caroline her phone with a trembling hand.

Guilt tore at Caroline. The only reason she had refrained from yelling at the characters that kept inevitably dying in the movies she'd been watching on her day off was to allow her sick grandmother to get some rest, yet due to her own obliviousness her grandmother had to get out of bed to locate her.

She had made sure to be as quiet possible, keeping the volume very low on the television, knowing that after her grandmother had her weekly treatment she usually suffered a multitude of side effects. Including severe headaches that were worsened by noise, yet she had forgotten that she left her phone on full volume in her grandmother's room when she had gone in to give her, her lunch earlier. She mentally berated herself.

_Stupid, stupid._

"Gran, I'm sorry, I forgot I left my phone in your room," said Caroline, her voice soft.

"It's okay, don't worry about it," replied the brown-eyed woman, waving off the apology with a forgiving smile.

"Let's get you back to bed, you need to rest," announced Caroline.

Her grandmother nodded, and accepted Caroline's steadying hand around her frail shoulders as she guided her back to the room.

Once she had her grandmother settled in bed, Caroline glanced at her phone. She had 9 missed calls, and 4 voicemails from work.

_Weird._

Whenever she got a call from work, it was for her to go in earlier than scheduled, but she had never been called on one of her days off, let alone that many times within the span of 20 minutes. She chewed on her lip debating if she should call, wondering if something was wrong, then her phone decided for her as it rang.

"Hello?" she answered, picking up on the first ring.

She walked out into the hallway, not wanting to disturb her grandmother.

"Caroline! I've been trying to get a hold of you for at least an hour," growled her manager, his voice a bit muffled by the music playing in the background.

"It's my day off," curtly replied Caroline, looking at her grandmother from the doorway. She couldn't leave her grandmother unattended for too long while she was awake, she sometimes forgot where she was and panicked. The neighbor she normally paid to look after her while she went to work had a date today, but Caroline didn't mind looking after her beloved grandmother on her rest day, even while being exhausted.

"Not anymore," countered her manager in a biting tone.

"What?" she asked, confused.

"It means you need to come in today," he informed her irritably, his voice low and ominous.

"I can't go in tonight," nervously replied Caroline, starting to get a foreboding feeling in the pit of her stomach. She had never heard him use that tone of voice with her, or with anyone else for that matter.

There was an exasperated sigh, and she could practically feel him scowling.

"Caroline, if you're not here in the next hour, you're fired," he snapped.

Her mouth went dry. He had never outright threatened to fire her before, he usually preferred more "subtle" threats.

"What do you-" she started, but was cut off abruptly.

There was a click and the call ended.

She cursed under her breath and proceeded to walk to her room to start getting ready. She'd have to find someone to watch over her grandmother, she couldn't leave her alone.

"It's quite cold in here, you should open a window," called out her grandmother from behind her.

Caroline whirled around to go look at her grandmother sitting up in bed, a dazed look in her eyes.

"If I open the window, it'll get colder, "explained Caroline, knowing it was useless to argue with her grandmother when she got like this.

"Colder? Why would it get colder? It's the middle of the day," said her grandmother, confusion flickering in her eyes.

Caroline sighed and gently explained to her that it was autumn and that it was chilly outside because it was nighttime.

"Nonsense, Liz! It's the middle of summer, don't you see? Take a look," insisted the woman, pointing and staring at the window, completely oblivious to the full moon and the branches swaying in the cold wind.

The blonde felt her heart constrict, lately her grandmother's moments of lucidity were becoming more and more rare. She didn't know what image her grandmother wanted her to be able to see, but she decided to play along.

"I see, it is summer, mom," lied Caroline, her voice almost breaking.

**. . .**

Niklaus Mikaelson, quite possibly one of the most powerful creatures to date, did not like to be ignored. He was not used to it, especially by his own mother. How dare she summon him, ruin his plans for the evening, only to pretend as if he didn't exist?

He heaved a sigh of annoyance as he offhandedly scanned the faces of his siblings, and the rest of the vampires sitting next and across to him in the imposingly large mahogany table. He didn't know any of their identities, and truly didn't care to learn them, but deduced that introductions would soon be made if they were what his mother considered "important" enough to interact with his family. In his opinion, vampires outside of his family were not important. He even referred to them as "lesser vampires" because compared to his family, they couldn't be anything else but less. The only vampires who were exempt from the demeaning nickname, and the only ones he held some degree of respect for, were the enforcers, or perhaps it was simply some sort of twisted comradery as opposed to genuine respect. He was one of them, after all. The original enforcer.

Vampires, despite how young or old they may be, had to adhere to a certain set of ancient rules that his family, specifically his mother, had created to ensure the continuation of the species, or else suffer the consequences. Most vampires obeyed the rules, but lapses did occasionally occur. That's where the enforcers came in.

Those that took on the role of enforcers dedicated their lives into preserving the vampire race, they efficiently disposed of anything or anyone that threatened the species, mainly destroying rogue vampires, whilst managing to maintain a peaceful co-existence between vampires, werewolves, witches, and humans alike. They took many measures to ensure that humans merely viewed their existence as myths, absurdities, legends, creations of their drunken imagination.

Looking down at his hands, he almost chuckled at the irony of it all. Out of all his siblings, he had been the one that ended up with the emblematic garnet ring encircling his left middle finger. Who would have thought?

It was centuries ago, when vampires openly preyed on humans as if they were cattle that his mother advised him, and his siblings to dispose of the rebellious vampires that refused to feed inconspicuously and follow her rules, warning them of the inevitability of the human's retaliation. She constantly scolded them for their lack action toward remedying the "dire" situation. They had all ignored their mother, with the exception of Finn, finding it amusing that she wanted them to enforce rules that they themselves constantly broke. Not to mention that the idea of being burdened by such a tedious responsibility didn't particularly appeal to any of them. So what if mortals knew of them? How were they, the first immortals, supposed to cower at the threat of uneducated, incompetent human mobs wielding pitchforks and holy items?

Humans were weak, while vampires were strong, his family even stronger, and he was the strongest. At first, his mother's concern over the humans posing a threat had seemed preposterous to him, laughable even.

Eventually his eldest brother, Finn, the cloying humanitarian of the Mikaelson family, had taken it upon himself to "teach" the rogue vampires how to feed without killing. In time even Elijah and Rebekah joined the cause and attempted to half-heartedly reform them. He and his younger brother Kol, however, were too busy enjoying traveling the world, womanizing, living freely, and never giving a second thought to their mother's plea.

During their travels was when they first heard the rumors of witches being burnt, of their persecution. News didn't travel very quickly back then, so to say that they were surprised once they learnt of the full extent of witch deaths was an understatement. The death toll was staggering. Witches were once plentiful, yet evidently only a few remained, strewn, living persecuted lives.

He had laughed at the news, given how much he disliked witches. They had fallen victims to humans. How pathetic. Kol, on the other hand, had not been as amused. His younger brother, for some reason unknown to him, seemed to like witches, despite the contempt they felt toward vampires and himself.

Then a few years later, the werewolf massacres started. This time his brother had laughed and celebrated with him. Werewolves were their enemies, even more so than witches. He, in particular, had a special hatred solely reserved for their breed.

As far as he was concerned it seemed as if the pesky humans were doing them a favor.

It was too late when he finally realized they should have listened to their mother. He, along with many others, never thought that the superior vampire race would be the next target, arrogantly thinking their kind too strong to fall prey to humans, nor that their natural enemies would eventually become their strongest allies. Mortals may have been weak, but they vastly outnumbered any supernatural race, and over time their methods of eradicating supernatural beings became increasingly efficient.

Klaus clenched his hands in fury, his pale eyes glittering dangerously as he reminisced. He now hated humans almost as much as he hated werewolves.

Resolutely, he switched his attention from his dark thoughts of the past back to his mother. She continued to ignore everyone at the table, too caught up in a conversation with two vampires.

Niklaus felt a renewed surge of annoyance, disliking how easily she disregarded his presence.

Letting out a long, calming breath, he focused on his mother's melodic voice with his heightened hearing. A slight smile formed on his naturally rose-colored lips, knowing she would undoubtedly have reprimanded him if she knew he was eavesdropping, but she was thankfully too occupied to notice.

He could hear her soft words, yet their sequencing made absolutely no sense. His smile faded. What was she discussing with the vampires? Glancing over at the duo in question, taking note of their garnet rings, confusion registered in his mind as he realized they were enforcers.

What were they doing here, unannounced, in his city?

Each enforcer was assigned a city to watch over, and depending on the populace, some larger cities required more than one enforcer. Bigger cities had more human prey, making them the most sought after hunting grounds for vampires. The more people, the higher the risk for exposure, especially with the popularity of advanced technology and media outlets. When an enforcer entered another's domain, they were expected to make their presence known, although that rarely happened in these modern times. It was too risky for an enforcer to leave their city unguarded. There was never a shortage of renegade, careless, or ignorant baby vampires to be dealt with.

He was the only enforcer that had the luxury of leaving his city whenever he pleased. Nobody dared to break the rules here. Only very rarely, in the past did he have to deal with uncooperative lesser vampires, but he had made proper examples out of them. Truth be told, he sometimes envied the other enforcers. Killing was fun, one of his favorite forms of entertainment, and they had a lot of killing to do, unlike him, which is why he sometimes went to random cities with his younger brother to help dispose of the "threats".

Niklaus often found himself craving for a resurgence of the olden days, days full of bloodshed, destruction, battles, and limitless death. A time when he could kill indiscriminately without having to concern himself with destroying the evidence of his fun. It was a pity humans had ruined that way of life.

Thinking about his glory days was doing nothing to lessen the hunger that had been clawing at him throughout the day. A need to kill and feed slowly began overwhelming him as his notoriously short patience dwindled even further.

His mother hadn't even spared him a glance.

"I fail to see why my presence is required here, mother," he interjected rudely, tapping his fingers on the table in frustration, hoping to gain her attention.

He grinned wolfishly as he noticed his mother's eyes narrow imperceptibly at his ill-mannered approach. Surely she would scold him for it, however, he was quickly disappointed to realize that she still didn't acknowledge him or any of her children, as she kept conversing with the two enforcers that now appeared to be nervous, pointing at documents, folders, an envelope, and what appeared to be a newspaper clipping strewn between them on the table. The rest of the vampires that were talking amongst themselves, glanced his way for a brief moment until he raised an eyebrow at them, daring them to say something. Once they looked at his ring they quickly avoided his gaze before returning to their conversations.

_Cowards._

"Or mine," added Kol, grinning at his impatient, older brother.

Niklaus' stormy blue eyes met Kol's dark gaze, and he knew exactly what he was thinking. Tonight was supposed to the night they tested out a theory they had been wondering about since summer. Instead of sitting here, doing absolutely nothing, they could be elsewhere entertaining themselves. Killing something, having fun. His younger brother was the only one who enjoyed and partook in his hedonistic lifestyle. Prior to their mother's so called "urgent" call, they had been in the middle of a hunt. Kol had managed to feed a bit, but Klaus had not. His hunger only heightened his irritation.

"Be patient," said Elijah, the eldest and most reasonable of the siblings.

The brothers broke eye contact, to stare at their eldest brother. Elijah's words may have cautioned patience, but his face revealed that even he, too, was exhausted of waiting for his mother to properly address them.

Kol lifted his eyebrows at Elijah's facial expression, but remained silent and followed his brother's advice. Niklaus scoffed and disregarded his older sibling's words altogether.

"Well, as much as I might like to stay, I have pressing responsibilities I must attend to," he announced, intentionally scraping back his chair in a dramatic fashion and rising to his feet with such force that the lesser vampires in the rooms flinched. Knowing that his stunt had the desired effect pleased him immensely, but outwardly his features remained blank.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," spoke up Rebekah, his youngest sibling, momentarily pulling her gaze away from the ebony-haired vampire who had been shamelessly flirting with her for the last twenty minutes. Both Elijah and Kol glanced over at her, as if they had forgotten she was there. Niklaus, on the other hand, had been keenly aware of how uncharacteristically receptive his sister was being to the vampire's idiotic advancements.

_Must have had a row with Stefan, again._

The source of his thoughts then began to speak and said, "If mother called us here, it's for a reason."

His sister sighed, tucking a light blonde strand behind her ear. "If only we knew what that reason was," she added.

Esther Mikaelson, Matriarch of the Mikaelson family, turned toward her audacious son, pinning him with a strict stare, then shook her head. "Sit down," she said softly. Her children were so impatient.

Niklaus' eyes narrowed, but he begrudgingly sat back down. His eyes then narrowed even further as he took notice of how his sister's newest interest crudely leered at her.

Due to his hybrid heritage, he had a very sharp, heightened sense of smell, one that allowed him to smell the dark-haired vampire's rapidly rising arousal. It was a pungent smell that made his nostrils flare in disgust.

The lascivious look had made Rebekah visibly uncomfortable, she strategically crossed her arms over her chest. She covered her discomfort with a wan smile, but he could see right through it.

Esther closed the folder she was looking over, and leant back in her chair, a frown marring her beautiful features.

"We have a problem," she finally said, her gaze lingering on each of her children, as she addressed everyone at the table.

"Duh," insulted the ebony-haired vampire in a resentful tone, rolling his eyes at the matriarch of the Mikaelson clan before winking back at Rebekah. It was obvious that he was trying to impress her.

Elijah quirked an eyebrow at the young vampire's rude remark.

Niklaus growled, a low, menacing sound that froze everyone into silence, everyone except the dark-haired vampire. He was too preoccupied trying to convince a reluctant Rebekah to go on a date with him to notice the mounting danger swirling around him.

Esther sighed wearily. "Niklaus," she warned quietly, staring directly at him.

Kol's eyes brightened in anticipation, fully aware of his brother's impulse.

Klaus ignored the warning flashing in his mother's deep, hazel eyes.

"Well, well," he commenced, addressing the impudent vampire, a charming smile plastered on his handsome face, "and who might you be?"

It was the abrupt, tension-filled silence that had befallen over the room that alerted the oblivious dark-haired vampire that something was off. A sudden feeling of apprehension churned in his belly, but he ignored it, too determined to impress the gorgeous blonde vampire he had been seducing for the last twenty minutes. It wasn't as if he were in any immediate peril, he was a valuable witness, after all. Much more valuable alive than dead, so to speak.

Looking over at the enforcer that was addressing him, he lifted his chin in defiance. His eyes inspected his features then. The dark-blond curls, high cheekbones, pale eyes, fair skin, and aristocratic nose. He was undeniably attractive, his face comparative to any angelic depiction found in many paintings, but there was something unnerving about his eyes. They were menacing and unblinking, seeming to have more commonality with a predatory animal, as opposed to an angel.

As the dark-haired vampire continued to gaze at him, his cold eyes appeared to change, brightening into a molten gold hue.

Flabbergasted, the vampire gasped, then blinked and found that he was still staring into a pair of blue-grey eyes that were now openly mocking him. Had he imagined it?

Movement caught his eye, shifting in his chair, he saw his friends turning to look at him as if he were crazy. He couldn't really blame them. In all of his vampiric life, he had never been so scared of an enforcer before, and he definitely didn't scare easily. This guy practically radiated danger, his unblinking eyes were extremely disturbing. He swallowed nervously, wishing he had kept his mouth shut, silently cursing his sharp-tongue and weakness for pretty girls.

"I'm waiting," pressed the blond enforcer, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He cleared his throat again, determined not to let his fear show.

"Zeke," he replied, his face a mask of impassivity, yet his voice quivered.

Niklaus' smile widened even further as the stench of fear replaced the vampire's arousal.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked, his glacial eyes fixed on Zeke.

Zeke's ebony eyebrows drew together in concentration, then he replayed the name the Mikaelson matriarch had previously mentioned over in his head and stiffened. Enlightenment quickly seeped into his mind. The yellow eyes now made sense, he hadn't imagined it.

"K-Klaus," stuttered the now terrified vampire, his eyes widening in recognition.

"In the flesh," confirmed Niklaus, his pleasant smile fading, twisting into an evil smirk. His ghostly blue eyes began glowing amber, darkened veins appearing underneath them.

"Niklaus-" began repeating his mother, but it was too late.

A gust of wind and the dark-haired vampire never saw Klaus move, but he felt something tear at his neck, viciously ripping through flesh and muscle. He screamed in pain as his jugular become exposed. Blood began spurting from the ugly wound, and Klaus leant into him, feasting on his bleeding neck. He greedily drank, holding the vampire like a rag doll, supporting his weight with a single, clawed hand dug deep into the back of his neck.

Once he had his fill, he easily ripped the man's head from his shoulders, carelessly dropping the headless body to the floor with a loud thud. The head rolled noisily, leaving a crimson trail behind, and landed close to his sister's feet.

He licked his ruby lips, and turned to his mother while his gleaming golden eyes and lengthened incisors were still visible. A trickle of blood dripped down his chin, staining the front of his grey shirt.

"Yes, mother?" he asked, feigning innocence. His gentle tone was at complete odds with his currently monstrous, hybrid image.

Esther didn't answer, merely gave him a pointed look. She didn't even flicker an eyelash at her son's brutality, having grown desensitized to it throughout the long centuries, at one point even encouraging it. Any other given day, she would have given her son an earful, but right now they had bigger problems than her incorrigible son's lack of manners to worry about.

Niklaus looked around the table, he spread his arms out in invitation, "Is there anyone else that would like to say something?"

A few vampires gulped, and kept their gazes carefully averted from the unpredictable enforcer. It was difficult to predict what was going through his twisted mind; his delicate features were calm, but his yellow eyes were eerily wild. It made everyone, aside from his family, very wary.

Most of them had no idea they had been in the presence of the hybrid. Every supernatural creature had heard of the frightening rumors about him, of his cruelty and complete lack of remorse. Of the fact that he exclusively drank from vampires, despite the taboo surrounding the act. Some even thought his existence was a myth, so great was his power that it seemed unrealistic.

To the supernatural community, he was their version of the devil.

The fear in the room was palpable, and Klaus was enjoying it.

His blood-stained lips then curved into a taunting smirk, "Didn't think so."

Niklaus barely spared his sister a glance for what he had done. A few droplets of blood had splattered on her face. She looked horrified. Her perfectly painted lips formed a comical 'O' as she looked down at the pooling blood and head that lay at her feet.

"Rebekah, love, close your mouth," taunted Niklaus. He smirked as his sister promptly shut her mouth, and raised her bright blue eyes to glare at him.

"You ruined my new shoes!" Rebekah screeched, finally finding her voice.

He rolled his eyes, leave it to his sister to be more appalled by the ruination of her shoes rather than by a mutilated corpse.

"They were hideous to begin with," Niklaus replied. He was feeling less agitated now, his hunger satiated. He had been itching to kill something ever since his hunt had been disrupted earlier.

Kol twisted around in his seat to get a better look at the discarded head, "Bravo!" he praised, approving of his brother's actions. He suddenly became aware of his mother's eyes on his form. "I mean… Poor lad. Didn't deserve it," he corrected, mock sincerity lacing his tone. His eyes still glinting mischievously.

"Here," said Elijah, offering his handkerchief to his sister, attempting to suppress the slight smile tugging at his lips. Yes, Niklaus' mannerisms were atrocious, something that had not changed over the centuries even with his best efforts to refine them, but something else hadn't changed with them. His love and loyalty toward his mother and siblings. Cruel and as heartless as his little brother liked to appear to others, he still cared deeply for his family, even with their constant bickering. A small fact that pleased Elijah immensely.

Esther drew in a relaxing breath and then calmly began passing out folders to the vampires at the table, once again shaking her head in disapproval while doing so. She loved her children above anything, but sometimes their mannerisms or lack thereof were comparative to that of animals. One would think centuries of existence would teach them patience and control over their impulses.

"What did you mean by problem?" asked a curious Elijah, glancing at the folders. His mother seemed unusually tense.

Esther evaded the direct question.

"Does everyone have a folder?" she questioned, her voice taking a commanding, business-like tone that all her children were intimately familiar with.

Elijah frowned, whatever their mother was keeping from them must be serious. That tone never meant anything good.

Niklaus plopped back down on his richly upholstered boudoir chair, staring at the folder now in front of him. He looked down at his hands which were still sticky and bloody.

He motioned one of the servants in the room to bring him a serviette before focusing his attention back to his mother.

Esther proceeded to slide a newspaper article in the middle of the table and pointed at it with her index finger.

"That is what I meant," she explained, locking eyes with her eldest son, Elijah, for a moment before looking at everyone else, urging them to take a closer look.

Niklaus finished wiping his hands and quickly read over the headline: **Bizarre Ritual Murders? Child Slayer Still At Large**

He saw the picture of a little boy's face, couldn't be more than 9. He looked serene. Eyes closed as if he were sleeping, but the caption below divulged that the only type of sleeping this boy was doing was eternal. **_Most recent victim; Body unidentified. _**

His stormy blue eyes quickly scanned the rest of the article. He even read it twice to get the facts right. A boy had been murdered in Merriam, Kansas about four months ago, a girl in Maryville, Tennessee the following month. Two more boys in Savannah, Georgia since last month, and now another one in Staunton, Virginia. The last murder victim was found yesterday.

The murders were gruesome, following the same grisly pattern. The assumed ages ranged from 8 to 10. All of the children's bodies remained unidentified, found inexplicably dressed in over-sized, adult clothing. They were stabbed, bludgeoned, and had their throats slit. Organs were apparently missing, but the article didn't specify which ones.

Niklaus' brows knitted together in confusion.

They didn't appear to be vampire victims, the article said nothing of exsanguination. If they were vampire kills, the enforcers of their corresponding cities should have taken care of it already, long before they had become a sensational story for humans.

A noise that suspiciously sounded like a sniffle caught his attention.

Surveying the table, he watched as Rebekah bit the inside of her lip and tried to blink away tears. Her emotions were always so easily readable on her face, like an open book. She always did have a soft spot for children. Elijah's lips were pressed into a thin line, and Kol merely looked bored.

"Did vampires do this?" he asked, perplexed. None of the details indicated toward a vampiric force being involved.

"No, humans did," denied his mother, an unreadable expression on her face as she locked eyes with him.

His eyes blazed with anger.

"So this is it? This is why you have called us? To discuss humans killing humans. Humans die all the bloody time," he snapped, surprising himself for being so short with his mother.

He was cross to have wasted so much time already on such a trivial matter.

"Open the folders," commanded Esther to everyone, disregarding her son's foul temper.

They all complied.

Niklaus opened his folder with exasperated force. It was, unsurprisingly, full of copies of crime scenes, autopsy reports, notes, and autopsy photos. The children in the pictures seemed to match the description of the details in the newspaper, except they revealed the children had rosaries planted post-mortem, into their hands, making it seem as if they were permanently praying. Hearts and tongues were missing, but most bizarrely of all, they had the word "demon" crudely carved into their small backs.

He had to admit, some of the details were repugnant and puzzling, but not enough to intrigue him or evoke some sort of pitying reaction. Throughout the centuries he had seen many more sickening, perplexing atrocities committed by mortals in the name of religion. This was next to nothing compared to the horrors he had been a witness to, or a creator of during his life.

Why should he and his family care about these ritualistic human deaths? Deranged mortals were always a problematic constant in the human world, just as rogues were in theirs, but the humans had their own inferior, less efficient versions of enforcers to take care of them.

Also, it wasn't as if there was a shortage of humans, they all knew that. Vampire sustenance was not on the verge of extinction. Prey was more than abundant.

"How does this concern us?" drawled Kol, voicing his thoughts, a quizzical look on his face as he finished browsing through the copies. He neatly shoved them back into the folder, raising it for emphasis and continued, "This is a mortal problem."

Klaus looked over at his brother, silently agreeing with him before he resumed flicking through the remainder of the photos. One or two of the victims seemed vaguely familiar, but he had been around long enough to know that many humans shared similar physical characteristics without being directly related. It was also equally probable that they were descendants from some of the vampires he had met throughout the centuries. Either way, the victims were still human, therefore unworthy of his concern.

"This is not a mortal problem, it is ours," briskly insisted their mother, her voice now stern as she gazed down at a large, brown clasp envelope firmly placed in her hands.

"How so?" challenged Klaus, even though deep down he was getting an uneasy feeling he couldn't quite shake.

"Because it involves your… brother," answered Esther, taut with emotion. It had been decades since her son decided to end his life, but she still couldn't talk about it without feeling devastated.

"Finn?" gently probed Rebekah, seeking confirmation.

Esther curtly nodded, opening the clasp folder with care, pulling out a photo.

"Finn is dead," replied Kol, his usually mirthful dark eyes softening. He knew how much Finn's death had hurt his mother. Everyone had felt the loss, but none so keenly as her.

Esther slid the photo to the middle of the table, next to the newspaper clipping, shocking her children into silence.

It was a picture of a vandalized cemetery, the very same cemetery Finn had instructed his family to bury him in after he had taken his own life about half a century ago.

Elijah reached out and slowly picked up the picture, tilting his head inquisitively, and eyes hardening with contempt.

"Is this some kind of joke?" he ventured, closely scrutinizing seasonal details of the photo. The surrounding trees were a vibrant green, and full of life. The sun a radiant, golden sphere, its rays of light shining a kaleidoscope of colors on the grass floor and a familiar, unearthed coffin. A stark contrast to the autumn-filled scenery that had greeted him and his sister a day ago.

They had gone and visited their brother's grave just yesterday, and as far as they were concerned, the grave site was undisturbed and Finn's coffin was still buried.

"This doesn't make any sense," added Rebekah, her blonde hair shielding her face like a curtain as she leaned closer to Elijah, staring at the picture. She then looked up into her eldest brother's eyes, communicating her own disbelief.

"That's not real," said Kol, eyes widening, gesturing toward the photograph.

"I'm afraid it is," replied Esther, "I sent a team to confirm it. Your brother's coffin was still there when they dug up his grave, but his body is missing."

Niklaus went still as rage welled up inside him. For the last few months, maybe even years he and his family had been apparently paying respect to an empty coffin. Someone had tricked them and now they were bragging about it. Whoever did this had just condemned themselves to death, a slow, torturous death.

"Why would anyone steal his body?" he demanded, his mind in overdrive searching for a valid reason.

_Ransom._

It was the only plausible explanation his fury-clouded mind could come up. Someone must have stolen his brother's body and was now expecting his family to pay them money or give them something in exchange for its safe return. Klaus' eyes darkened at the thought. Nobody, absolutely nobody, messed with his family and got away with it.

"We have reason to believe his remains were used in creating the corrupted cure, sir," informed one of the enforcers.

Klaus blinked, shocked, as the words registered in his mind.

_Corrupted cure? What the hell?_

The thought of his brother's remains being used in anything made his blood boil.

"Who the devil are you? He snapped, turning to face the enforcer who had unwittingly made himself the target of his hostility.

"I am Charles, enforcer of Norfolk, Virginia, sir," replied the enforcer, his head bowing slightly in deference. He gave Esther a brief concerned glance, fearing becoming the intimidating hybrid's next meal.

Esther's warm eyes caught the enforcer's frightened look, she turned to her angry son. "They," she chided, pointing to the Charles and the other enforcer, "were the ones that found the witnesses and brought them to me."

Klaus had no idea what his mother was talking about, but he stopped glaring at the Norfolk enforcer, knowing his mother was subtly telling him to play nice.

"The corrupted cure?" parroted Kol aloud, his voice heavily tinged with skepticism. The cure was gone, Finn had seen to that when he drank it, in hopes of becoming mortal. Unfortunately, since they were never human to begin with, the cure hadn't done a damn thing to Finn, except cause him to writhe in agony for a couple of hours. No cure remained, corrupted or otherwise.

Kol's hands fisted in anger thinking about his brother's senseless suicide.

The enforcer merely nodded at Kol, and refocused his attention back to the Mikaelson matriarch as she pulled a leather drawstring pouch out of the clasp envelope.

Esther quickly opened it and gently began pulling out what appeared to be rings. Not just any rings, garnet rings.

Niklaus stared at the jewelry, baffled. Emblematic garnet rings that enforcers wore were difficult to come across, especially since said rings enhanced a vampire's abilities. The rings commanded respect and sparked fear in the vampire community, so it was very unlikely that an enforcer would willingly give up their ring, which only meant one thing. The owners of those rings were most likely dead.

"Where did you get those?" he inquired quietly, suddenly feeling dejected.

His mother met his gaze for a moment, knowing how much esteem he held for his fellow enforcers, before resuming her task.

"They were sent to me this morning, along with the picture," answered Esther.

"By who?" he asked, pressing for more information.

There was a pause as Esther debated on how to best answer the question.

"I don't know," she finally answered as honestly as she could, her voice stiff. It was true, she didn't know who it was that sent her the taunting information, directly threatening her species and beloved children, but she was determined to find out.

"What do you-"Klaus started, but was stopped when his mother held up a silencing hand as she took a deep stabilizing breath, then began addressing the whole table with unwavering authority hardening her usually soft voice into iron.

"There are a group of humans that have been hunting and killing vampires for months, undetected until now. They have somehow managed to create a concoction, a corrupted version of the cure which "cures" vampirism by temporarily reversing age. It reverts a vampire back to a younger age, an age in which they were still human," said Esther, her voice was calm, almost as if she were talking about the weather instead of a potentially catastrophic threat to the vampire race.

The sudden silence that followed did not surprise her, she had expected as much.

She noticed as her children sat up straighter, now giving her their undivided attention, their expressions flickering between uncertainty, disbelief, and shock.

Klaus looked down at the autopsy reports and photos, and then it hit him. Vampires. Some of the victims were enforcers, which explained the discarded rings and why some of them had seemed so familiar. It also explained the victims' over-sized clothing and unknown identities.

"Bloody Hell," whispered Kol, also coming to the same conclusion as Klaus.

After giving them some time to digest the shocking revelation, Esther continued, ""Those child victims you see before you were once vampires, enforcers to be exact. As of right now, only enforcers seem to be the targets. We currently have no solid leads, but we do have witnesses."

Niklaus watched, curious, as she gestured toward the rest of the nearly forgotten lesser vampires in the room.

_What were they witnesses to?_

"They seem to be religiously motivated and think it is their holy mission to kill us all," said the Mikaelson matriarch, gesturing toward Elijah to hand her the cemetery picture.

Securing the photo in her grasp with numb fingers, Esther flipped it over, holding it up high enough for everyone to read the scribbled note on the back of it.

Niklaus' eyes narrowed into slits as they zeroed in on the messy writing.

"That sounds religiously motivated to me," observed Kol, reading over the note with a scowl on his face, "although they're wrong on the demon part."

"Why are they only after enforcers? Do these humans not know what they do for their pathetic lives? That they are the ones that protect mankind from being reduced to cattle?" asked Rebekah after a long moment of silence, her voice practically dripping venom.

Her longtime unofficial boyfriend, Stefan, was an enforcer. The idea of him suffering a similar fate made her skin crawl.

Klaus briefly glanced over at his sister, knowing she was thinking about their mutual friend, and her lover, Stefan.

"That still remains a mystery," replied their mother.

"Are you positive humans did this?'" Klaus asked, a bit dubious, despite the surmounting evidence.

"Yes, I already compelled the witnesses to make sure, and the bodies of the victims are riddled with human prints, no indication of witchcraft is present on any of them. The wounds were made with a screwdriver, and various knives," confirmed Esther.

Because of their genetic adermatoglyphia, everyone at the table dismissed the notion of werewolves being involved when they heard about the prints. Witches were not fond of killing humans, let alone torturing them, however, on the strange occasion that they did kill a mortal, their magic always left a residual telltale sign clearly visible to supernatural creatures.

"Witches would not risk another war. Their numbers are low enough as it is. It makes sense for them to aid us, not try eliminate us," rationalized Elijah.

Esther nodded in agreement to her son's astute observation. He was right, as much as they disliked it, the supernatural races had to stick together to survive.

"A screwdriver and knives? Typical. It definitely sounds like a human's handiwork to me. That's the problem with people today, they have no imagination when it comes to torture," voiced Kol, scoffing, while glancing at Niklaus.

Niklaus looked up from inspecting the crime scene photos and autopsy reports when he felt someone's eyes on his form.

Ghostly blue crashed with espresso brown as the brother's locked eyes and shared an understanding look. When it came to torture, they had quite the imagination. Even after centuries of doing it, they always found new, exciting methods to torture their victims into insanity before disposing of them. Their intended plan for the evening was a testament to their creative cruelty.

"Humans. It's a group, Kol," corrected Elijah, his brows furrowing in displeasure at his younger brother's lack of seriousness. He clearly did not seem the grasp the gravity of the situation at hand.

Kol shrugged his shoulders in indifference.

"I need to send in the envelope, rings and photograph to a forensic laboratory to be properly analyzed to confirm if they have prints on them. The envelope, in particular, has a strong lingering human scent on it. I'm certain if it does have prints, they will be a match to those found on the bodies. The FBI has been unable to find anyone in their databases that match the prints, so I doubt we will fare any better," informed their mother, delicately sniffing the envelope.

"But if they aren't a match and have different prints on them, we might be able to get hit on the AFIS," added an optimistic Rebekah, regarding the rings with a pensive look on her face.

"Hmm, I suppose it's possible," replied Esther, her doubt audible.

Tearing his gaze away from his brother, Klaus resumed browsing through the photos and reports.

He was aware of his mother's thoroughness and of the fact that she had many vampires infiltrating law enforcement throughout the country, but he still was hoping to find some sort of hidden detail she had overlooked pointing toward another supernatural creature's culpability in the murders, and was unsuccessful in doing so.

_Damn it. _

Humans were hunting them, again.

As much as he hated to admit it, humans were their biggest threat. Hell, they knew from personal experience that mortals could beat them with sheer numbers alone.

They weren't even hunting lesser vampires, they were going after the strongest, most vital members of their community. Enforcers maintained balance, if rogue vampires found out about the absence of their punishing force in certain cities, it wouldn't be long before they took advantage, killing without discretion, inevitably leading to many exsanguinated bodies being found.

With the rise of vampire media, it wouldn't take much to convince mortals that they walked among them, threatening the existence of mankind. It would be chaos. Worst of all, these vampire hunters appeared to know too much about vampires, if they gathered enough evidence they could eventually expose them if they weren't properly taken care of.

"We need to find them," he decreed, his lips compressed into a thin line.

"I know, and we will find them before they expose us," his mother replied, seemingly picking up on his inner thoughts.

"Do the witnesses still have their memories intact?" asked Klaus, eyeing the three lesser vampires with curiosity.

They shifted uncomfortably under his ghostly gaze.

"I haven't erased them, and yes you may compel them to give you some insight on what it is you are hunting," answered Esther, fully aware of what her son was indirectly asking her.

"I'll tell you everything I know if you don't kill me," shakily implored one of the witnesses, flinching in fear from Klaus' eager gaze, terrified of what he would do to him.

Klaus chuckled, clearly amused, relishing the helpless fear shinning in the lesser vampire's eyes.

"Or I could just compel you and then kill you," he said, a wolfish smile that didn't quite reach his cold eyes playing on his face.

"Please, please don't kill me," begged the frightened vampire, wildly scanning around him to see if anyone would help him. Much to his dismay, nobody said anything, they just kept watching, even his friends were keeping their eyes averted from him, refusing to meet his pleading gaze.

"Tell me everything you know, what you saw," commanded Klaus, disregarding the vampire's whimpering, his hypnotizing blue-grey eyes dilating as they bore into his fearful eyes.

"My friends and I were hunting for hitchhikers in the woods near Staunton when we smelt blood coming from an old, hidden cabin. There were three humans torturing a kid with a screwdriver, stabbing him all over. There was so much blood. It smelled so sweet, so good. We were planning on draining them all, and I was planning on keeping the boy to myself, but they shot us with a tranquilizer gun before we could do much. Zeke was the only that got close enough to break one of the human's arm, but then he got tranquilized too. We were in a ton of pain, so much that we blacked out. When we woke the next day we were on a beach, in the middle of the day. The sun wasn't burning us and we were children again, but the pain was still there. It was agony. After a while, we started noticing that we were slowly aging and the pain was fading. We all stopped eventually aging when reached the age we were turned at. Then the hunger started. I never felt hunger like that in my entire life. It was like being a vampire baby all over again, but worse, so much worse. We killed about ten people before those two enforcers there stopped us and brought us here, then that lady there interrogated us and compelled us not to kill any-"

"That's enough," cut in Klaus, leaning back into his chair and running an agitated hand through his blond curls, absorbing the information.

The vampire blinked, his hazy mind slowly clearing. His eyes widened once he realized that he had been compelled.

"Did you take care of the bodies?" Klaus asked, facing the two enforcers.

"We did, but we did not have time to find the cabin. Our hands were full trying to restrain the witnesses. They were practically feral," admitted Charles, looking sheepish. The other enforcer's face held a similar expression.

Esther cleared her throat, attempting to regain everyone's attention.

"You both did well," complimented Klaus, giving the enforcers an appreciative nod before turning back to his mother.

Esther began giving out orders.

Kol looked over at his mother, already knowing what she would instruct him to do. "I can go look for the cabin," he hastily volunteered.

"No, I'll look for the cabin, "objected Rebekah, a hopeful gleam in her eye as she tried bribing her mother with a brilliant smile. Stefan lived close to where the witnesses claimed to have seen the cabin, and even though she was upset with him, her concern for him overpowered her anger.

"No, Niklaus will go look for the cabin. Kol, you'll do damage control," informed their mother.

Kol groaned in dismay. "I always do damage control," he complained.

"Then you should be used to it by now," rebuked his mother, her voice exaggeratedly sweet.

Kol merely rolled his eyes at his mother's teasing.

"Why can't I look for the cabin?" whined Rebekah, her radiant smile fading into a pout.

"Because your brother is an enforcer, and the best tracker we have," explained Esther.

Klaus smirked at Rebekah, feeling smug. "Don't worry, little sister. I'll give him your regards."

"Burn in Hell," said Rebekah, glaring at her older brother, knowing exactly whom he was referring to.

Klaus' grin widened even further.

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><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading! Reviews would be greatly appreciated!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries.**

**Warning****: This is intended for a mature and broad-minded audience due to my writing style, which tends to have a dark undertone.**

**A/N: I'm very grateful for all of the lovely support! Thank you. I'm glad my story is being given a chance. Here's the second chapter. Enjoy!**

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><p>Chapter Two<p>

"I can't do that!" protested an incredulous Caroline, her emerald eyes widening in utter disbelief while she gingerly gestured toward the stage with an elbow, mindful of the two whiskey drinks in her hands.

She was, for once, grateful for the heavy layers of clown-like makeup plastered on her face, knowing her face was burning a bright scarlet underneath.

"You either do it, or you get fired," contemptuously answered a masculine voice.

Caroline's small fingers tightened around the glass, her knuckles turning white. She quickly looked away before he saw the anxiety undoubtedly swirling in her eyes, an instinctive reaction evoked by the familiar threat he had been spewing for the last couple of hours. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

As her hidden gaze wandered on to the stage she had been pointing toward earlier, a chill of panic ran down her spine.

She couldn't do it.

It was one thing to wear an outrageously revealing outfit, something that did help in attracting more customers, thus bettering the chances of receiving bigger tips, but stripping was a different matter completely.

Putting on a façade of confidence when customers unashamedly ogled her, and threw crude suggestions her way was difficult enough as it was, she couldn't imagine being able to convincingly pretend to be a vixen while she undressed on stage.

She involuntarily cringed as she watched the current girl on the stage seductively lick a pole, eliciting a loud, appreciative reaction from the drunken men in the club. They were clapping and yelling as if it were the most amazing thing they had ever seen. Even through the billowing clouds of smoke, she could still see some of the more lecherous men reaching for their groins, thinking the tables and dim lighting were enough to hide what they were doing.

_Gentlemen's club, right, _she thought sarcastically.

'Gentlemen' would not be the word she would choose to describe the type of men she had to deal with on the job. In fact, it was possibly the last thing she would ever think to call them.

_More like a club full of-_

"Well?" rudely prompted the voice, interrupting her scathing thought.

Even with the noise of the blaring music and loud uproar from the crowd pounding in her ears, she could hear him perfectly, he had a distinctly commanding voice. A deep voice that she knew many women found alluring, one that over the past couple of hours she had come to dread yet again.

She tore her gaze away from the stage and looked over to the owner of the voice, the man who had been threatening to fire her for what seemed to be the millionth time this night

Tyler Lockwood, manager of the seedy gentlemen's club she worked in, was good-looking. The female employees that constantly flocked to him without trying to hide their obvious interest in him were proof of that.

He had short raven hair, dark eyes, surrounded by ridiculously long lashes, which glittered like coal, and sun-kissed skin. He was well-built, yet not very tall. Not short, either. In his customary business suit, befitting of his position, he looked polished and professional, everything she knew he was not.

She had to admit that, superficially, he appeared to be quite a catch.

If she hadn't discovered his deceptive, misogynistic, and self-absorbed attitude, Caroline would have regretted not having had accepted to go on one of the many dates he asked her out on a few years ago.

She was secretly thankful her busy schedule, which often made her feel lonely by limiting her time to socialize and make friends, had helped her dodge that bullet.

Caroline recalled that with each rejection, he had become increasingly cold toward her, constantly reminding her, in what he considered to be "subtle" ways, that he was the one in charge, that he could end her only source of income on a whim. In her opinion, Tyler was about as subtle as a gun.

It angered her to think that she once had a crush on him.

A long time had passed since she first met Tyler, asking for employment. She remembered that in her desperation she had told him about the dire financial situation she was in, hoping to convince him to hire her, promising him that she was a hard worker. Much to her surprise, he did hire her and even gave her sweet words of encouragement. It was in that moment that her crush began, but the kind, gentle man with whom she became infatuated with, the very same one that, for a fleeting moment, had been the focus of her dreams, ended up being one of her worst nightmares.

In the end her crush had been brief, about as brief as Tyler's "nice guy" act.

She sometimes regretted having told him of her financial trouble, wishing she had kept that fact to herself, however, she often wondered if that was the main reason why he had hired her to begin with, not to help her out of the goodness of his rotten heart as she once gullibly thought, but to use it against her.

Every time she reminisced back to when she found him charming, even sweet, she had the urge to slap herself.

_Definitely a wolf in sheep's clothing, _Caroline thought, as she presently restudied Tyler's deceiving good looks.

He was as attractive as he was temperamental, his extremely volatile temper carefully hidden underneath his charming façade.

When it really came down to it, in the beginning, the worst part of her job had not been dressing in scandalous clothing, exposing more skin than what she was comfortable with, or flirting out of necessity with perverted customers that occasionally tried to grope her. No, all of that was easily tolerable in comparison. The worst part was being Tyler's personal doormat.

She quickly learned how to handle intoxicated men with lewd intentions, but she never learned how to handle Tyler, for he was in a whole different league. Alcohol never seemed to dull his sharp mind, deceiving him was impossible, whereas drunk customers easily bought into her lies, and unlike other men, he was never dissuaded by her polite indifference.

Even with her tremendous self-discipline, there were many occasions in where she was tempted to yell at him, or at least say something back when he insulted her, but knowing he was only looking for an excuse to fire her, she had swallowed her pride and allowed him to have his childish fun.

Caroline had assumed he would eventually tire of taunting her, but she had been wrong, very wrong.

He had continued, without any indication of stopping anytime soon, to make her job as stressful as possible and would have continued doing so until she probably quit.

As much as she had felt the urge to quit her degrading job, despite her resilience, on more than one occasion during the first few months, especially under Tyler's constant torment, she knew it was the only way she could continue to pay for her Grandmother's medication and treatments.

The city she had moved into with her grandmother wasn't very big, and with its Vegas-like reputation and atmosphere for indulging sins, it was far from her interpretation of picturesque, but it was the only city in the state that had an affordable oncology center. It wasn't a great place, but it was the best she could do under the circumstances.

Unsurprisingly, if you were a young female without a college degree, had minimal work experience, and you needed to make good money in this city, your job options were limited and unsavory.

Initially, she refused to even consider those questionable options, disregarding the abundant, racy neon signs she had seen come alive at night to beckon men like moths to a flame. She was determined to find a job outside of stripping, cocktail waitressing, or any other strip club associated job that involved minimal clothing and degradation. Luckily for her, she quickly found employment in a thrift store close to her apartment complex, which even spared her from taking the dreaded city bus.

During that time, she genuinely thought everything was starting to look up, even her grandmother seemed livelier.

However, her optimistic outlook was short-lived, the income derived from the few hours she worked there wasn't anywhere near enough to cover her small bills, much less the bigger ones accumulated by her grandmother's illness.

She then decided to take on a second job at the pizza parlor across the store, hopeful that the additional money would lessen her debts, but even with that money, the bills and debt were still stacking up, drowning her.

It wasn't long before she started to look at the neon signs with curiosity, then desperation.

Caroline always liked to think she chose the least demeaning job, but the way Tyler always insulted her, made her feel like a cheap sell out, not to mention the times he thoroughly looked her over in her very revealing uniform.

She knew he liked making her feel terrible, she could see it in every mocking smirk and wink he threw her way.

Unfortunately for him, and luckily for her, Stefan Salvatore, the bartender and the brother of the club's owner had taken a platonic liking to her, ending his reign of terror.

Whenever Tyler got too carried away with his harshness and was particularly nasty to her, Stefan would intervene on her behalf.

It wasn't as if Caroline was weak, she had been through many more challenging obstacles in her life, and she had been able to endure Tyler's treatment for an entire year on her own, but she was still extremely grateful for her ally.

Stefan didn't have to filter his words like she did, and Tyler couldn't manipulate his behavior by threatening to fire him.

Ever since she and Stefan had developed their friendship, Tyler's comments were kept to a minimum. He was still a temperamental jerk, but with Stefan around he was more bearable to work with.

She gave a small, tremulous sigh, desperately wishing Stefan had been working tonight.

Tyler always took advantage of the rare occasions in which Stefan didn't work. He would always seat more customers than she could handle in her section, make snide comments, or even call her in to work ridiculously early.

She was used to that petty pattern of his, it didn't faze her anymore, but tonight it was different.

He was different.

Crueler, angrier, and more… Unhinged.

This man, this version of Tyler Lockwood, made her heart thunder in panic.

She couldn't explain it, but tonight she was genuinely wary of him. He practically exuded violence, it was almost as if he were barely holding back from doing something terrible. A ticking time bomb waiting to go off. She could see it in the way his body was rigidly tense, his hands constantly finding something to crush in between them, his back and forth pacing reminiscent of a caged predator.

Every time he got near her, her instincts screamed at her to put distance between them.

The anger that shone in his eyes every time she defied him tonight made the hair on the back of her neck stand on end, and her heart race.

He used to make her heart race whenever he was near a few years ago, much like he was doing now, except that her heart was currently beating in alarm, not in exhilaration.

Tyler was making her work a longer shift than usual on her "day off", and earlier had made her perform additional duties that she knew for a fact were not in her cocktail waitress job description. When she had pointed that out to him, he had furiously given her an ultimatum that seemed to become his newest mantra, either she did what he asked or he would fire her. At one point, she could have sworn he actually snarled at her.

Now he expected her to leave her tables unattended, miss out on the tips she had been working toward, and to take the stage and strip.

Caroline glanced over at the bar, an image of Stefan's kind, handsome face flashing in her mind, her eyes darted to the luxurious charm bracelet encircling her delicate wrist, and then she straightened her spine. Being friends with Stefan had built up all of the self-confidence that Tyler had previously set out to destroy.

She wasn't going to do it. Enough was enough. If it came down to it, she would rather get fired and beg Stefan for her job back, than to keep her job by stripping at Tyler's command.

Caroline refused to be reduced to being his personal doormat again.

Once had been more than enough for her.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep, stabilizing breath, feeling Tyler's eyes on her.

"Go ahead, fire me," she answered him dismissively, turning to deliver the two whiskey drinks in her hands to their rightful tables. She had tried to make her voice sound as steady as possible, but in spite of her effort, it still came out slightly wobbly.

She had had barely moved a foot when a large hand encircled her thin, upper arm in a vise-like grip.

The glasses in her hands almost slipped, sloshing their alcoholic content over her cleavage and bare midriff as Tyler harshly spun her around to face him.

Her vision swam from the swiveling momentum, unsteady legs threatened to give out underneath her, but Tyler's bruising grip kept her from falling.

His fingers painfully curled into her arm.

"Let go," she demanded, horrified of his hold and his nearness. The strong smell of his cologne, intermingled with the aroma of spilt whiskey, was overpowering her sense of smell to the point of being nauseating.

He was so close that she could feel the heat emanating from his body, his hot breath fanning against her.

Judging by the odd, almost glowing glint in his eyes, she could tell he was losing control of his infamous temper.

She tried jerking her arm free, but his grip never budged. He replied to her struggling by tightening his grip even further. His incredible strength made her realize how truly vulnerable she was to him.

Her eyes searched around, hoping to find someone to help her, but she knew that the customers were either too busy spectating, or too drunk to help. The few female employees that were close by, gave her envious looks, clearly misinterpreting the situation.

Tears started stinging her eyes from the pain, but she tried blinking them away, refusing to spill tears in Tyler's repugnant presence even as he almost broke her arm.

Glancing anxiously toward the warm, yet brutal hand on her arm, she reasoned that the actual probability of her arm being broken was quickly rising, along with the pain.

"Let go, p-please," she supplicated him, breathing the words through gritted teeth. How she hated begging for anything or to anyone, especially to him.

Tyler didn't loosen his grip as he leant his head down, whispering over the music into her ear.

"You think Stefan is going to get you your job back if I fire you, don't you?" he sneered, glancing at her luxurious bracelet.

She stiffened.

_Yes, _her mind supplied for her. That's exactly what she thought, but she didn't want to aggravate him even more, knowing how much he hated being reminded of Stefan's higher authority in comparison to his own.

"No", she replied, lifting her chin in convincement, but her eyes betrayed her.

Tyler's eyes narrowed, a knowing expression dawning on his face as he abruptly released her, forcefully shoving her away.

Caroline staggered back, but found her footing before she careened into a passing co-worker.

She glared back at him, determined not to let her fear show, even though she definitely felt scared. His roughness had taken her by surprise.

"You'll bore him eventually," Tyler promised, disdain coating every word.

"Bore him of what? Being friends?_" _She sarcastically snapped, annoyance flickering in her green depths at the insinuation.

"Spare me the act," he accused, his eyes locking on hers. "We both know why Stefan keeps protecting you, but even you should know that he will get tired of you sooner or later", he continued insultingly, "and when he does, what will you be left with? You will no longer have a job here, and every club in this damn city will know of your ineptitude and subpar performance as an employee. I'll make sure you're never hired again."

Caroline wanted to say something, she really did, but all she could do was stand there mutely while Tyler spun on his heel and began walking back into his office, not sparing her a second glance.

She looked down at the two glasses still firmly held in her hands, and released a shuddering breath she hadn't realized she was holding in. She wasn't sure if she was technically fired or not, but she was anxious to leave. Glancing down at her watch, she was relieved to see it was already 3:45 AM, signaling the end of her extended shift.

Caroline approached the nearest unoccupied table she could find, gently depositing the empty glasses on it. On any other given day, she would have taken the glasses back to the dishwasher herself, but she was too tired, not to mention she wasn't particularly looking forward to running into one of Tyler's devoted fans. Some of her co-workers already disliked her enough as it was for being friends with Stefan, she couldn't even begin to imagine how more rude they would be toward her, if they thought her and Tyler were involved somehow. It was comical to her, hysterical even how blinded some of her co-workers were by Tyler's charm.

She rubbed her aching arm, gingerly avoiding the outlined fingers on it, knowing a bruise would undoubtedly form there.

That's when she noticed her bracelet was missing. She looked for it on the surrounding floor, but couldn't locate it. Carefully retracing her steps, she eventually found it in the place where she and her manager had been 'talking'. Her eyes furrowed as she assessed what she had previously thought was her bracelet. It was torn and misshapen, and if it weren't for the familiar charms crookedly hanging off it, she would have never guessed it was the once beautiful bracelet Stefan had given her.

"It's destroyed," she sadly whispered to herself, gazing at it in her small hand.

A deep resonating laugh caught her attention. She glanced over to the office, cringing as she saw Tyler intently observing her from the door frame of his office.

_Bastard._

Marching up to him, and ignoring her self-preservation instincts, she dangled the bracelet in front of his smirking face.

She intended to be angry, and fearless as she asked, "Are you the one responsible for this?"

But her voice didn't have the desired effect as Tyler nodded and gave her a look full of contempt that made her take a cautious step back.

"You had no right to-"she began scolding, before Tyler abruptly cut her off by slamming the door in her face.

She nervously sighed, and couldn't help but wonder how on earth he had so thoroughly broken her bracelet with only his bare hands. She knew he was strong, but being able to bend a thick, platinum bracelet beyond the point of recognition required some serious strength.

Glancing down at her arm, the physical reminder of his brute strength, she shuddered in remembrance of its force.

Defeated and thoroughly shaken, she quickly made her way to the break room to gather her belongings and leave. Glancing down at her watch, she quickened her steps, knowing she had little time to catch the last bus home. Stefan wasn't here to give her a ride, she felt her heart twinge in discomfort as she thought about him. If he were here tonight, Tyler would have never done what he had, he was too much of a coward in Stefan's presence.

Entering the break room, she approached her assigned locker. Her hands trembled as they hastily undid the lock. She grabbed her pink coat and shrugged it on, wrapping the belt around her waist. Usually she would take off most of the excessive makeup in the employee bathroom, but she didn't have sufficient time for that now. Grabbing her purse, she practically ran out of the 'employees only' door, racing down the street like a lunatic to reach the bus stop on time.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries.**

**Warning****: This is intended for a mature and broad-minded audience due to my writing style, which tends to have a dark undertone.  
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**A/N: Hey, everybody! I hope you're enjoying the holidays. A massive thank you to all of you that read and review my story. You guys are great!**

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><p>Chapter Three<p>

Having ended his quick shower, Klaus stepped out of the en-suite bathroom and entered his bedroom with only a towel lazily wrapped around his narrow hips.

He ran a hand through his wet hair causing rivulets of water to run down his toned body, leaving a trail of water droplets behind him on the cold marble floor.

Flickering an insouciance glance to one of the many opulent windows that allowed sunlight to stream into his room and overlooked his mother's gardens, he confirmed that the autumn sun was beginning to set.

Blurring over to his closet, he started compiling a mental list of all of the possible locations the cabin could be in. So far, he just knew it was somewhere in the woods that bordered Staunton and Stefan's assigned city, one of the largest and densest woods in the east coast.

If he found the cabin early enough, he was considering stopping by Stefan's house and checking in on him. He hadn't seen him in almost a month now.

Before he had drained the three lesser vampire witnesses he had compelled them to tell him every last detail of what they remembered seeing, and has asked them specific questions hoping that their words would facilitate, or at least narrow his search, unfortunately, but not surprisingly their assistance had been abysmal.

The only one that had supplied the most information, which was saying a lot considering his recall was as generic as it could possibly get, was the first witness he had interrogated.

Now knowing that the first dark-haired vampire he had killed during the meeting was the only one that had gotten close enough to harm one of the human hunters, part of him wished he hadn't disposed of the idiotic vampire so quickly without having had interrogated him.

However, as soon as that thought would infiltrate his mind, a flashback of his rude behavior toward his mother would shimmer in his mind, making him want to kill the insolent vampire all over again, while negating any sort of potential regret.

His mother had assured him that she had interrogated the lesser vampire before he had drained him, but he knew that his mother, a skillful woman in most areas, was not the best when it came to interrogating others. Being able to compel vampires that were not born to darkness was a great asset during interrogations, but only when you knew which questions to ask and how.

Glancing down at his garnet ring, he couldn't help but wonder why only enforcers were being targeted.

It enraged him to know that his fellow enforcers, elite vampires, were being taken down by feeble humans.

The anger faded as an unusual, yet familiar faint feeling of hunger swept through his body.

His gaze flew over to one of the windows, seeing that, in the distance, the outline of the full moon was starting to deepen.

The fading light of the evening sun was reflecting off of the crystal chandelier above his bed, bathing the walls and dark furnishings of his room in a soft orange glow, making his pale eyes glow eerily.

He had completely forgotten about the full moon.

_Fitting for Halloween, _Klaus sarcastically thought to himself, having effectively deduced why his temper had overruled his logic during the meeting,

Taking a steady breath, he felt the first true prickling of hunger sharply rise within him.

He had fed well earlier, but the type of hunger slowly churning in his belly was one that he knew he could never satiate, it was the hunger of his inner lycan.

It didn't please him to know that the hunger pangs were only going to get worse during the night.

The gnawing hunger that always made its presence known during full moons was what he considered to be the only downside of being a hybrid. It didn't matter how many lesser vampires he drained, the hunger could never be assuaged.

A faraway sound in the gated driveway caught his attention. He focused his hearing, recognizing the chauffer's voice as he spoke into the intercom, stating his reason for entering.

Looking at the clock in his room, he uttered a curse. He was running late, and if he didn't hurry, he'd miss his flight.

A few moments later, he had just finished putting on a shirt and was surveying his reflection in the mirror, when he heard someone open the ornate double doors to his bedroom. He had the urge to roll his eyes, as the unmistakable floral scent of his sister's perfume filled his nostrils.

Klaus had already presumed, from their exchange during the meeting, that she was worried about Stefan, which probably meant she was going to ask him to check in on the enforcer, or maybe she wanted to talk to him about something else. Whichever the case, he was too pressed for time to converse with her. Besides, he had already decided that he was going to visit Stefan while his was in Virginia, not that his sister needed to know that.

"Rebekah," Klaus greeted her as soon as she closed the doors, "I don't have time," he added dismissively, fixing the necklaces he always wore as he strode towards her to make his exit.

Finally looking at her, he froze mid-stride, quirking his eyebrows in question at her appearance.

She was wearing a revealing, fashionable dress that showed off her figure. Her makeup seemed freshly applied and her hair cascaded down her bare shoulders in golden waves. To him, she looked like she was going to a movie event.

"I'm going with you to help you look for the cabin," she declared, her face set in determination.

Klaus chuckled softly and proceeded to walk past her.

She followed him outside his room.

"What's so funny?" she demanded suspiciously, feeling slightly miffed.

Her heels echoed in the hallway as she picked up her pace to keep up with his long strides.

"That you think you're going with me," he replied, his gaze momentarily meeting hers, his legs never breaking stride. He left out the part where he visualized her hopelessly searching for a cabin in the middle of the woods, her designer clothing and heels looking tarnished.

His sister not only loved fashion, she loved her clothes, and thanks to Kol's idiocy he had witnessed firsthand the repercussions of messing with her wardrobe. His lips curved as he thought back to Kol's panic-stricken expression once he realized what a terrible mistake he had made in ruining her clothes. As sweet as his sister appeared, she had a great capacity for violence.

"I am," she stated curtly, bringing him back to reality.

Rebekah noticed that her brother briefly seemed amused judging by the glint she saw in his eyes.

"No, you're not," he countered calmly.

"Why not?" she challenged, feeling her temper beginning to flare.

"Because you're supposed to be helping Kol do damage control, and you're a terrible tracker," Klaus explained to her in a voice of an adult chastising a petulant child.

"Your incompetence would only slow me down," he added.

The amusement still lingering in his eyes now coupled with his reprimanding words only served to further irritate her.

She opened her mouth to deliver a scathing response to his insults, but closed it when it occurred to her that if she was trying to convince him to take her with him, then angering him was not in her best interest.

With narrowed eyes, which still held a hopeful gleam, she began explaining how she could help him find the cabin in other ways. She even threw in a few compliments in her speech to favorably sway him.

Klaus simply tuned her out as he made his way down the stairs, pulling out his cellphone to read his latest message, while she still kept rambling on.

After a few moments, he finally addressed her.

"And I'm assuming this has nothing to do with Stefan living only a few miles away from those woods?" he interjected, a mocking half-grin forming on his face.

His visual attention solely focused on his phone, Klaus felt rather than saw his sister's reaction to his words. She stiffened and immediately became quiet.

Their sibling banter faded away, the vibration in the air taking a more somber feel.

Rebekah felt her throat clog with emotion at the mention of Stefan's name, but she shoved the feeling away. She then swiftly grabbed Klaus' arm, forcing him to abruptly halt his calculated steps down the grand staircase.

Annoyed Klaus turned to her, searching her face.

She met his gaze evenly, her eyes seeming to plead him, but he remained unaffected, his face a cold mask of detachment.

Lifting a brow at her, he impatiently waited for her to say something.

She swallowed the lump forming in her throat. She was having difficulty finding a way, without admitting that he was right in his assumption, of convincing him to let her accompany him. In the back of her mind, she already knew Klaus wouldn't want her to go with him, but she was determined to see Stefan. She was going to Virginia, whether he liked it or not.

Surprised to find that his skin was becoming very warm, a lot warmer than it usually was, she broke eye contact and stared down at her hand encircling his muscular arm, trying to decipher why his body was suddenly radiating so much heat. His skin was almost burning her palm.

Raising her gaze to his face again, her eyes widened as she looked out to one of the large windows behind him.

Seeing the full moon starting to glow in the rapidly darkening sky, Rebekah dropped her hand away from his arm, realization dawning on her. Taking a wary step away from her brother as if she were uncomfortable with their proximity, she took a deep breath and collected herself.

"I need to see him, Nik. I said horrible things that I didn't mean last time I saw him. I'm worried about him. He won't answer any of my calls," she confessed, sounding defeated.

She did everything in her power not look at him again, knowing he would clearly read the desperation in her face.

He had bunched his free hand into a fist, she noticed, and his knuckles were turning white.

She knew her reaction had bothered him, however she hadn't known there was a full moon tonight. The sight of it had caught her off guard, but it certainly did explain Klaus' behavior during the meeting. It hadn't escaped her notice that he seemed more agitated than usual.

Instantly aware of her change in behavior, Klaus' spine went rigid at her obvious discomfort, his mouth tightened into a grim line and his eyes hardened, becoming glacial.

He loved striking fear in others, but he never enjoyed frightening his family. It irritated him to know that his sister still didn't feel safe around him during full moons, even though she already knew he no longer struggled with his instincts. Centuries had passed since those dark times, yet it was apparent that her wariness still persisted.

Deep down, he knew her reaction was automatic given the natural animosity between vampires and werewolves, but it still bothered him, a lot more than he cared to admit.

His cellphone started ringing, dragging him out of his thoughts.

"You're not going," he replied firmly, and turned to go, he was about to answer his phone when a light pressure on his back made him whirl around, confused.

Startled, he instinctively caught the fist in mid-air, effectively preventing her from making contact.

He blinked. "Did you just try to hit me?" he asked, amused.

"I did hit you, you wanker!" she yelled, her eyes flashing sparks while she glared at him.

_That's more like it, _he thought with inner satisfaction. He would choose being his sister's main source of anger, over being her source of fear on any given day.

"Why?" he questioned, puzzled by her outburst.

"Because you don't get to tell me what to do. I'm going with you, whether you like it or not," she stated with finality, her voice clipped.

Klaus fought the urge to groan in frustration as she quickly made her way down the stairs, jerking open the front door with more force than necessary, and closing it with such a slam behind her that the sound echoed in his sensitive ears. He then heard her entering a vehicle and talking to the chauffeur that was waiting on him.

He knew there was no point in trying to deter her now, she was too stubborn and hell-bent on seeing Stefan. Closing his tired eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose, he could feel a headache already starting to form.

He was trying to think of a way to elude her, but his concentration kept getting disrupted by the incessant ringing of his phone.

Releasing the frustrated sigh he was holding in, he answered his phone, and practically growled a greeting to the determined caller.

A familiar voice laughed on the other line, sarcastically asking him why he sounded so cheerful.

Klaus' eyes snapped open, a plan already forming in his mind as a sly smirk spread across his face.

"Stefan, it's been a while," Klaus replied back smoothly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Vampire Diaries.**

**Warning****: This is intended for a mature and broad-minded audience due to my writing style, which tends to have a dark undertone.**

**A/N: I really, really hope you like this chapter. HAPPY NEW YEAR! I know it's technically New Year's Eve, but I figured some of you will read this after midnight. **

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><p>Chapter Four<p>

Ominous, charcoal-tinted clouds gathered overhead, releasing small, spider-like webs of electricity across the sky, a warning of an impending danger. Klaus was extremely annoyed, but managed to keep most of his irritation in check, knowing his emotions were feeding the brewing storm he was unintentionally creating as he carefully moved through the woods, the light rain bouncing off of his broad shoulders, glistening down the length of his body.

He knew the rain wasn't helping him find a scent or clues, but his annoyance was starting to override his logic, and consequently adding momentum to the rain. If he were human, he would have shivered from the cold wind and icy droplets coating his frame, but instead he relished in the small amount of relief the increasing coldness offered his sensitized, heated skin. He lifted his head, staring up at the night sky, allowing the drops of water to splash on his face, cooling his warm skin.

The luminous full moon was still in clear view, even more so now in contrast to the darkness gathering in the skies, a stark and constant reminder of his inhuman existence.

Despite being a hybrid, the full moon still affected him almost much as any full-blooded werewolf. He, too, felt the prickling heat burning beneath his skin, the gnawing hunger for flesh, and his predatory instincts kicking in, making him more aggressive than usual. Except, unlike purebred werewolves, he was strong enough to refrain from fulfilling his lycanthropic cravings.

The biggest asset of Klaus' hybrid strength was exemplified by his ability to easily suppress the overwhelming urge to shift on full moons, even while experiencing the more advantageous side effects of the moon's influence, the ones that enhanced his power.

Werewolves lost many of their human characteristics when they transformed underneath a full moon, but at the same time their strength and speed increased substantially in order to compensate. Klaus was never mortal, nor was he a full werewolf, two things which made the curse of only shifting, unwittingly, during full moons completely inapplicable to him. Instead, he could access his ability to transform whenever he pleased, he could even partially transform without having to complete the transformation.

The only other notable difference between a hybrid and a werewolf, that Klaus and everyone else who was worthy, or in almost all cases unfortunate enough to notice when witnessing his true lycanthropic form, was physicality. His unusual abilities in comparison to that of an average werewolf seemed to manifest themselves in his equally unusual werewolf form. Transformed werewolves could simply pass for being extremely aggressive, large wolves. Their physical characteristics, consisting of claws, paws, fur, and amber or yellow tinted eyes, are certainly not considered improbabilities found among natural wolves. Even their glowing eyes, a distinctive werewolf trait, could be attributed to the tapetum lucidum, a reflective eye layer, found in many nocturnal animals that causes their eyes to glow when light is shone on them.

In fact, during their travels, especially during the commencement of the fur trade, a time when the selling of pelts made a decent profit due to their great demand, Kol and Klaus had come across more than a couple of horrified hunters who had apparently mistaken a "human" for a wolf.

His true form was never once mistaken for a natural wolf in the olden days. No one would have ever mistakenly associated his form with a natural occurring animal. If someone were to do so, the person in question would most likely have been suffering from a mental deficiency or was perhaps visually impaired.

Now that the stereotypical depiction of a werewolf, a bipedal half-beast and half-man creature with clawed hands, had many similarities with his form, he often wondered if he could get away with pretending to be a human wearing a costume during Halloween. It wouldn't take much to trick an inferior human mind. He had never intended to test out his theory, but Kol had convinced him to try it, and had even offered to wear his own vampiric features as a costume.

Had it not been for the human hunters targeting enforcers, he and Kol would be currently testing out their theory. The plan had been to attend a human party, try to blend in, and then display the authenticity of their so called "costumes".

It was a foolproof idea, really.

If the humans suspected they were actual monsters, they would kill them. If the humans didn't suspect anything, they would kill them to show them how stupid and gullible they were. Either way, the humans were destined to die. They had been planning it since May, when Kol had apparently been inspired by a documentary regarding the existence of mythological creatures. Why his younger brother had an affinity for such absurdities was beyond his comprehension, yet he couldn't deny that question had been swirling in his mind for some time now, not to mention that they would both get quite a laugh from seeing the humans finally realize what they really were.

Their faces would probably contort into permanent, horrified expressions after he and his brother were through with them.

_Two monsters pretending to be humans, that would have been brilliant, _he thought with a ghost of a smile curving his lips.

He suspected that if Elijah and Rebekah were to find out, they would disapprove with frowns plastered on their faces, while his mother would scold them for their propensity toward reckless behavior.

In the past, Klaus had never thought it would be a possibility for him to show his werewolf side to any of his siblings.

He didn't think they would be able to meet his countenance without disgust twisting their faces, not that he would blame them. Even he couldn't stand to look at himself during his first years as a hybrid. As vain as he was, he didn't initially embrace his lycanthropic form. He found it too unsightly, an abomination. However, he eventually learned to tolerate it. Once he began hearing of the sheer terror and myths his werewolf form inspired, he fully embraced his monstrous image.

After all, it did suit him well enough.

Klaus could still recall his first, most excruciating transformation. It had happened right after he had taken his first victim. It was countless centuries ago, but he could still remember the horrified expressions of his family when they saw his skin rupturing, his bones breaking, muscles loudly ripping, and his body encasing itself in fur. Everything after that, except for a single isolated memory, was only a hazy blur of bloodshed and an insatiable, relentless hunger. A constant hunger that never went away for even a second during those three days he was trapped within his own body.

He had caught a glimpse of himself in his transformed state when he came across a lake. It was the memory of that reflection, so unexpected and grotesque, highlighting exactly how unnatural his hybrid existence was, that Klaus found himself playing over and over in his head as he fled from his family's home, perplexed and covered in the blood of his victims.

That was the first and last unwilling transformation he had undergone. Every shift after then had been a choice for him.

His family merely assumed that shortly after he had triggered his werewolf curse, in the process exposing his mother's painful secret and his bastard paternity, he had relocated, kept his distance from them, and only visited for brief hours when absolutely necessary because he didn't want them throwing curious glances at him, privately wondering just how many werewolf traits he had inherited from his biological sire. To a certain degree, they were right, during his early years as a hybrid he didn't like the pensive looks that were occasionally cast his way, especially by his mother, but the truth was much darker. He didn't trust himself around his family in the first few decades of his hybrid existence, knowing his notorious impulse had been emphasized considerably after his lycanthropic awakening.

Klaus didn't have the option of going to the alpha of the pack that sired him, as was customary for newly triggered werewolves, to learn how to tone down his aggressive instincts and sharpened senses. Being an original vampire, he already had very heightened senses, which were only intensified to a painful degree when he became a hybrid.

When he was away from his family, he tried going for months, sometimes years without transforming to test his limits, but he found himself nearly going mad with the deprivation. The need to release his inner lycan was a constant feeling, a haunting hum vibrating through him day and night, bordering on insanity until he gave in. The longer he waited, the more painful the transformation was.

He had to learn how to endure the blinding torture and discomfort for decades, before he had finally managed to teach himself how to control and reduce the pain to a bearable amount. As decades became centuries, the pain associated with his werewolf enhancements faded into nothing.

Halting his measured steps, he pushed the sleeve of his long-sleeved white shirt as much as possible, then extended his right arm in front of him, enjoying the feeling of thick, smooth fur sprouting across the length of his exposed skin, fingers elongating, bones cracking, and hands curling into deadly claws. His werewolf side was howling for release, wanting him to go through with the transformation, but he only gave his clawed hand a single flex before forcing his limb to revert back to its humanoid form.

He smirked, knowing that a full-blooded werewolf trying to do the same would not be able to stop from completely transforming.

The two, closely neighboring cities that were only separated by the woods he was currently in, once had dense werewolf populations, but their inability to control their shifts during full moons, their resemblance to natural wolves, and a certain hybrid with a grudge were some of the main reasons why they were almost killed off to extinction.

Klaus learned, through indirect rumors, that the remaining werewolves now used some sort of herb supplied to them by witches, which helped suppress their transformations. He didn't know the specifics of how the herb was used, he didn't know if it was consumed or perhaps worn, and he truly didn't care to learn of them, but he did know that nothing, with the exception of being a hybrid, could lessen the pain. He pitied the imbeciles that suppressed their transformations, wondering why the devil they would do that, knowing from experience that suppression was never a good idea.

Putting an end to his speculative thoughts, he walked into a more heavily shadowed area of the woods, where large, dense trees blocked out most of the light, drizzling rain. He looked up toward the sky, and saw that the moon was barely visible as it filtered through the long, twisted branches. They looked like skeletal, disfigured limbs trying to perpetually reach the large orb.

He pulled out his phone, cursing at the screen. It was nearly 4:00 AM. He had two missed calls from Kol, and a text message asking him how his search was going.

He forced his body to remain calm, pinching the bridge of his nose.

_Eight bloody hours._

For eight hours now he had been searching for the damned cabin the lesser vampires had described to him. There was no way he hadn't found it by now. It just wasn't possible.

When he had originally made it to the woods at 9:00 PM, he had assumed his search would only take him an hour at most. The flight had merely taken about two hours.

He had wanted to get his search over with quickly, hoping to be able to find a party with Kol so that they could test their costume theory, but with each passing second, the probability of that happening was rapidly decreasing.

He sent a text to his impatient younger brother, telling him not to expect him anytime soon.

Klaus briefly wondered if the lesser vampires had lied to him, but he knew they wouldn't have been able to lie to him under his compulsion, and with his lycanthropic ability to detect lies.

As he walked, the hairs on the back of his neck began prickling and an unusual, foreboding feeling settled in his stomach.

Pausing, he looked around, and took a long breath, not detecting anything out of the ordinary.

Continuing on, a small buzzing began in his temples, but he attributed it to his hunger, which had grown exponentially throughout the night, making him aware of every warm-blooded creature pumping blood through its veins within a mile radius.

Earlier his heightened senses had informed him that a group of humans in the distance were spending their Halloween night drinking and partying in the woods, but he hadn't heard them make any noise in a while. Klaus had avoided that small area, not thinking that a random, weather-beaten cabin would make a proper party centerpiece.

He sped over to the area and a triumphant smirk formed on his face. There, right in the middle of the alcohol-littered ground, was the infamous cabin. It matched the exact description he was given.

_Well, sort of._

It seemed he had overestimated the underage humans' taste in regards to centerpieces, or maybe he was out of sync with the modern generation of cattle because they had decorated the cabin with orange toilet paper and what he assumed to be cotton webs.

Their atrocious decorative skills aside, he hoped they refrained from venturing inside the cabin. His throbbing head wasn't looking forward to having to sort through the various, disgusting scents associated with the aftermath of intoxicated humans.

He easily sidestepped the remnants of the teenage party, assertively sauntering toward the cabin.

The constant buzzing in his head was rising in level with each step he took, yet Klaus continued to disregard it, knowing he would feed soon enough in Stefan's city.

His nostrils flared as he inhaled deeply once again, scanning his surroundings as the sense of danger now turned oppressive. Still, he didn't find anything out of place, but he proceeded with caution, feeling the air around him thicken.

The smirk slid off his face when the buzzing crescendo suddenly spiked, rupturing his eardrums. He clutched at his head, covering his bleeding ears, trying to stop the piercing noise from vibrating through him.

Disorientated from the sound still pulsating through his head, dulling his senses, he didn't hear the modified darts flying toward him.

He felt, in quick succession, two large darts firmly lodge into his chest.

Eyes widening in surprise, he looked down at the crimson droplets of blood starting to pour down his white Henley shirt, staining it.

An immediate surge of pain coursed through his veins.

Wildly, he looked around him trying to find the source of the darts, but the edges of his vision began to viciously blur, skewing his sight.

Grunting, his body swayed uncertainly, one of his hands reaching out for a tree trunk's support, but his depth perception failed him, his mind getting increasingly hazy.

The next wave of crippling pain pumping through his body brought back memories of his first transformation, except this time his body wasn't morphing. No, it was shutting down.

A third dart impaled his torso, pushing him backwards.

In response, his claws extended, fangs sprouted, both sharp and deadly, ready to attack.

Above him, huge bolts of lightning were released. Thunder roared, and the now driving rain soaked the littered vegetation underneath his feet.

He snarled as a new rush of agony burned through his muscles.

The reverberating sound in his mind unexpectedly stopped, allowing his unhealed ears to vaguely pick up on the rustling of moving bodies in the distance.

_Humans._

Fury blazed in his brightening eyes, revealing their deadly intention.

Continuous, powerful gusts of wind raised up dying leaves, twigs, and empty beer bottles, making them soar through the air with such force that they seemed like bullets.

The surmounting pain slamming into his unsteady body made his legs buckle. Sinking onto his knees, he tried pulling out his cellphone, but another dart was shot into his arm, the momentum causing his phone to fly out of his hand and a land a distance away from him.

Fighting through the haze, he instinctively knew he had to get away, but his movements were sluggish, much slower than that of a human.

A fifth, and final dart hit him squarely in the forehead.

Dimly, he heard a man yelling, "Bullseye!"

Klaus' vision started fading progressively faster, it went bright white for a moment, and then completely black.

His unconscious body slumped with a loud thud onto the ground.

**...**

Caroline was sure everyone on the bus was able to hear her taking in short, ragged gulps of breath into her burning lungs as she looked for a seat, but if they did hear her, they didn't seem to care. She was thankful for that.

The majority of people on the bus appeared to be as equally tired as her, the only difference being that they were tired from partying and she was tired from working. Many of the passengers had their costume masks off, and their theatrical makeup smeared.

As she walked past a woman with a scandalous maid outfit, she couldn't help but notice how many similarities her costume had with her own uniform.

She choose a seat in the back, near a window, hoping to avoid socializing with the intoxicated individuals sitting in the front.

Yawning, she peered out of it, enjoying the city lights flashing by her.

Far away, in the woods, she could see dark clouds rolling ominously, lightning sizzling through them, a sharp contrast to the clear sky in the city. It was like something out of a movie.

Involuntarily, she released a small shudder and pitied whomever had to get off on the last stop, the one in the woods. They were inevitably going to get drenched.

The more distance the bus put between her and the club, the more relieved she felt.

She closed her fatigued eyes, reasoning that she was only going to rest them for a moment because there was no way she would be able to fall asleep here, with the strange smells, and loud voices surrounding her.

The noisy, drunken individuals in the front were jovially laughing, reiterating how much fun they had, had.

Ironically, their boisterous voices were oddly soothing to her.

Her exhaustion finally caught up with her as she leaned her head against the window, snuggling into her pink coat.

It wasn't long before she fell asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Thank you for reading! Did you like it? Reviews are always welcome. They will meet very, very soon.**


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